Hermione's Plan
by donnerzx
Summary: It was done. It was complete. Her parents were now “Wendell and Monica Wilkins,” moved off to Australia, not knowing they had a daughter, not knowing she even existed. " HGRW. One-shot.


It was done. It was complete. Her parents were now "Wendell and Monica Wilkins," moved off to Australia, not knowing they had a daughter, not knowing she even existed. Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat. She felt like she was breaking some unsaid rule, using magic on her unsuspecting Muggle parents, but, it didn't matter, they would be safe. It was her fault, really, telling them so much about Harry. They were safe now, though. They _had_ to be safe. And after her, Harry, and Ron had found the Horcruxes and Harry had defeated Voldemort, she would find them, lift the enchantment and explain, but if she didn't come back, at least-

Hermione blinked back the tears threatening to spill.

"_No_," she gasped. "_No._ _You have to be strong right now."_

Standing, she pushed back her hair and picked up Crookshanks, mewing anxiously next to her on the sofa. Hermione hugged him tight while making her way one more time around the deserted house, heels echoing hollowly against the wood floor. There must be no clue betraying who her parents were or where they had gone- no pictures, no fingerprints, _nothing_. She paused, had she taken care of everyone who knew the Grangers? Patients? Relatives? Friends? Her body turned cold at the image of Lucius Malfoy sneering at her parents in Flourish and Blotts-it was ages ago, and, with her spells, he wouldn't recognize them-but she quickened her pace, searching for any little thing she might have missed, racking her brain for any other flaw in her plan. She found none.

Stopping at the front door, Hermione nestled Crookshanks into a basket secured to the side of her trunk, she would need one hand free when aparrating to the Burrow. The Burrow. _Ron._

He had told her she could stay with him the night after Professor Dumbledore's funeral. _Dad says he doesn't know how much longer it'll be safe_, he said, looking at her desperately. She needed to go home first. When she was home, Ron sent her so many letters, asking her when she'd come, what she was doing, that Hermione was afraid the neighbors would notice his tiny owl, Pigwidgeon, constantly hovering at her window.

She kept her replies light-hearted. _Oh of course, I'd love to come for Fleur and Bill's wedding. I'll go early to help with the wedding arrangement. _She even hinted at going back home to celebrate her dad's 50th birthday afterwards. It was just a misleading tip, of course, in case the letters were intercepted by the wrong hands.

Swallowing again, Hermione picked up her trunk, magically lightened, in one hand and gripped her wand in the other. Ron had offered to get her by Floo. _That's what we did for Harry, _he wrote. Connecting her house to the Floo Network, even for a day, was too dangerous, though. The Death Eaters would find it regardless of her precautions, but she wanted them away from her childhood home for as long as possible. Besides, Mr. Weasley was bound to ask for her parents. A strangled sob escaped, it was all she could do now to keep from breaking.

Assuring a mewing Crookshanks that they would be there soon, she took one last look at the empty foyer and revolved on the spot into the suffocating darkness, thinking of The Burrow. A familiar scent told her she had arrived. She opened her eyes, looking straight into the face of someone blue-eyed and flaming-red haired.

"Ron!"

"Hermione! What happened? You look-"

She looked terrible, she knew.

It was exhausting and draining, working day and night, planning her parent's disappearance, second-guessing herself, holding herself together until they were-

With a thud, her trunk and wand dropped to the ground, Crookshanks springing indignantly out of his basket. Hermione collapsed, sobbing.

Then Ron was there holding her, stroking her hair, whispering soothing words while she cried and cried and cried. When her sobs finally subsided and her body stopped trembling, he wrapped a firm arm around her shoulder, guiding her through the protective enchantments, into the house. As they walked through the kitchen door, where Mrs. Weasley and Ginny stood waiting anxiously, he gave her arm a final squeeze, and for the first time in a long while, Hermione felt that maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright.


End file.
